


Let's go Together

by ArthurtheGatekeeper



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Dandelion & Friends, M/M, Protective Jaskier | Dandelion, mentioned canon character death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:33:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26925172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArthurtheGatekeeper/pseuds/ArthurtheGatekeeper
Summary: Dandelion wasn't good at leaving people behind. Or. Well he was.But he wasn't good at leaving his friends behind.Take me first. He demanded. Or take me with them.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 15
Kudos: 131





	Let's go Together

“Run!” Geralt demands of him as the tide returns. As the fish men with their budging eyes and axes and swords approach. As he swims desperately forward.

“Grab my hand!” He demands in turn.

_I need you to be safe._ He hears in Geralt’s plea.

_Well I need you to be alive._ He responds in turn.

The waves pull at this thighs as Geralt’s hand finally connects with his. He yanks him to shore. Geralt stands and readies his blade.

Only then does he turn and run.

“Dandelion!” Ciri motions him to _run_ as the Temple guard gains on them. Drawing her blade. 

He does. He makes it up the steps behind the walls and turns.

Turns to a pile of bodies and Ciri. Falling to the ground.

The distinct clicking of crossbow bolts loading fills his ears.

“Ciri.” He says.

He runs back down the steps. Towards her. Leaps. Arms stretched. The bolt flies and he doesn’t know if it will be enough.

_Take me instead._ He demands of death. Of the Universe. Of the world at large. _If you must take one of us, Take me instead._

She pops away in a brilliant flash of light.

“Ciri?” He stumbles to his feet.

He is surrounded. He thinks for a moment he can hear the universe laughing at him.

_Sure. We’ll take you instead._

Priscilla lay still and broken.

He waited. Listening to the shallow sounds of her wheezing breaths. Cataloging the injuries.

_Just this week a corpse turned up with similar injuries. And no heart._

How close he’d been. To burying another friend. To burying Priscilla.

And no heart. What symbolic irony that would have been. If they’d taken his heart.

He held her hand. Rubbed the back of it with his thumb.

_An incision into her larynx and swelling inside her throat and esophagus._

He remembered crying silently at the gates of Rinde. Knowing he might never sing again.

Her good eye fluttered open. _Dandelion?_ She mouthed.

He tried not to see Essi’s little eyes in hers. In the blue of her eyes.

Tried not to remember the last time he’d sat at another bard’s sickbed.

“I’m here. You’re safe. I’ve got you.” He promised. “I’m not going anywhere.”

_Don’t make me bury you too._ He begged.

She squeezed his hand. He hoped she was saying _Neither am I._

He laughed drunkenly at Zoltan as they walk down the street. Three rare qwent cards tucked into his back pocket along with the deck that won them. They are safer to carry home than a purse full of coin.

“I can’t believe people still play me!” It was one thing to play a Gwent Champion to test your skill. It was another to stake anything of value on beating them.

But if people wanted to believe he was a total fool instead of a foolish genius that was on them.

He snorts. “That makes two of us laddie.” Zoltan has done well tonight too. He was one of the few people worth playing for anything other than information or valuables.

“It’s almost curfew Gentleman.” A man - a witchhunter stepped out from under the shadows of a tree. It’s only then does he note three other of the monsters waiting in the darkness.

Zoltan reached for his weapon.

“Don’t.” He whispered. Stepping between them. “If you touch it they’ll kill us.” He reminded.

“Like they won’t do that anyway.” He spat. Without the mages to hunt down they’d moved on to non-humanoids.

_Not me. They wouldn’t kill me._

_And I won’t let them hurt you._

“Yes we’re aware! Our abode is just around the corner thankfully!” He projected to all the houses and merchants that lived nearby. “May the eternal fire light your way!” He repeated the formal farewell of the church. Moving in the direction of safety.

“And also yours.” He growled back.

He forced himself to hold the strap of his lute in his right hand. It was shaking. Swung the other in a mockery of confidence.

One of the hunters lunged at them.

He jumped in front of Zoltan. Shielding him.

_Me first._

They laughed. Harsh and cruel.

Zoltan dragged him away.

“Good.” He admired the painting of himself he’d hung in Geralt’s home. “So Geralt, important to remember - if anyone asks. I’m not here.”

Geralt looked at him questioningly. Or if he didn’t that didn’t particularly matter because he kept talking anyway.

“Last time I was in Toussaint, enjoying myself, true, Anarietta, that is, the duchess, got a little carried away. Banished me from the duchy on pain of death. Wouldn’t want to ruffle her feathers without cause.”

_Then why are you here Dandelion?_ He read in the lines of Geralt’s shoulders.

_The same reason as always my friend._ He smiled. _I didn’t want you to be alone._

“Going to show me around? Tell me the story?”

“Course. Lets go.”

He flopped in the decadent bed Geralt had purchased with a groan.

“There’s a guest bedroom you know.”

“But the bed is no where near this nice. Besides it’s plenty big enough for two.” He spread out his long limbs to make his point. “I bet I couldn’t find you in this bed if I sent out a search party!”

Geralt snorted at his ridiculousness. Turned out the lights. The bed creaked slightly as he climbed in. 

“Just like old times.”

“You didn’t have to climb in through the window this time.”

“You’re right. Where’s the fun in that?” He rolled over and winked in the Witcher’s direction. “Although it’s a shame you lost both your more agreeable bedmates. I can’t believe you thought you could have both. I mean really.” He laughed. “When's it ever worked out for me? Learn by example Witcher.”

Geralt was quiet next to him. He burrowed under the blankets. Cuddling with a fluffy pillow.

“Thank you.” Came the deep rumbled of Geralt’s voice in the darkness.

Something traitorous curled in his chest. “For what? Stealing all the pillows? Being amazing company? Trying all your wine?”

“Staying.” The mattress shifted. “Despite everything.”

His mouth was dry. “Of course.” He released the pillow and let his and relax open on the bed. “You’re my best friend.”

_Take my hand._ He asked.

“Despite everything.” Geralt huffed in the dark. “You’re mine too.”

He’d memorized the hand that took his long ago. It was warm.

“Where are you headed Geralt?”

_Let’s go together._

“I don’t know.” He wondered what face Geralt was making. “Nowhere in particular.”

“Nowhere. Lovely place. We could go there together.”

“We could.”

“Shall we? Go nowhere together?”

The darkness was still for a long moment. “Yeah.” His hand still warm in his. “Let’s go.”

Together.

**Author's Note:**

> This was my day 9 prompt for whumptober 'Run!' Or 'Take me instead!' and I was like. Well porque no los dos?  
> Hope you enjoyed!


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